Something Like Self Love
by Jayden Shay
Summary: Short vignettes of each of the Avengers masturbating. Seriously. PWP.
1. Bruce

**So I've been in this fandom for quite a while on Live journal and hadn't gotten a chance to cross-post, but I needed a break from studying for a while (IB Exams suck.) so here's a fun Avengers kink meme fill :D**

**Bruce**

He breathes in deeply, holds it a moment and then focuses on letting go. Mind blank, Bruce doesn't stop the motion of his hand on his cock. He's still in control.

In, out.

It's been three months since the last time the Hulk burst out of him and Bruce is feeling confident. Confident enough to run his thumbnail up the underside of his cock so that he shudders, chest tightening up as his breath catches momentarily.

Underneath his other palm, Bruce's heart rate picks up slightly. Systole, diastole. But he's still okay, still safe.

In, out.

He's breathing more heavily now, can feel himself getting close to climax, and now he has to slow down. Bruce loosens his grip, slows the motion of his hand. He focuses on the growing pressure in his balls, feels them tight and heavy with the need for release. It's been a long time since he's had occasion to do this - he needs to take his time for obvious reasons - but it also helps with his control.

Bruce lets his fingers slip a little lower, toys with a nipple as he counts heart beats. He's gotten good at estimating it, but he glances at the clock next to the bed to be safe; waits for a minute to go by. It cools him down some, keeps him steady.

In, out.

He keeps breathing deeply - same way he does when he meditates - and picks up the pace again, bringing his hand back to stroking his engorged cock. A little dribble of pre cum escapes him and Bruce collects it with a swipe of his thumb before rubbing it back down his length. He's not going to last much longer, heart rate picking up a bit more.

He slows his breathing even further, stills his hand for a moment to let his heart rate drop accordingly. He focuses on relaxing his body one limb at a time until he's completely boneless against the sheets, lips parted gently as Bruce lets his head sink into the pillow.

Now he can tighten his grip, tugging his cock up towards his belly with a slow, careful hand. His other hand remains on his chest, keeping time with the beating of his heart, but Bruce allows himself to let his fingertips curl with the heat building in his abdomen. His nails dig into the soft skin, but he's far enough along that the slight pain only enhances the whole sensation.

A soft sound falls from Bruce's lips as the heat begins to spread out into the rest of his body.

In, out. In, out.

Two more pulls, fingers twisting skillfully along his length and that's it - Bruce sucks in one last breath as every muscle in his body pulls as tight as Clint's bow string. His eyes are slammed shut, nails digging into his chest hard enough to probably draw blood, but beneath it all there's a steady: thump-thump, thump-thump.

Bruce lays back for another minute, regaining focus. He wipes his hand off on his shirt and breathes.

In, out.


	2. Tony

**Tony**

It's unconventional, sure. But they're working up to it.

"Cat got your tongue?" Tony teases, a little out of breath as he works his cock with quick, efficient strokes. He arches up, lets his fingers brush against the top of his balls, and doesn't hide the shudder when he melts back against the bed. He's Tony Freakin' Stark - he knows how to put on a show.

"You're incorrigible," Bruce replies, his lotus position looking less and less serene every moment. Tony lets a breathy moan escape him and doesn't miss the way Banner's hands fist themselves in the covers on either side of him.

"Ah - true." He spreads his legs a bit wider, presses his hips up into his hands, "Sure you don't want a hands on demo?"

Bruce just huffs a laugh, but Tony misses whatever facial expression might have accompanied it. He's got his eyes closed, pretending it's Bruce touching him, his steady hands pulling Tony closer and closer to the edge. "Really? 'Cause here at Stark Industries - Oh fuck, that's good - we aim to please. Satisfied customers and all," He's panting at this point, rolling his hips up in time with his strokes.

"Damnit Tony," But he's smiling when Tony looks back to him, so it's obviously still good.

"Been working on that control, I see," Tony points out, letting his gaze linger on the sizable bulge in Bruce's pants.

"Getting there." He shuts his eyes and Tony lets himself relax a bit. He studies the worn lines of the doctor's face, imagines them slack with the ecstasy of release. They're getting there, but it's still something Tony has yet to see and he's curious.

"Thought you got off before this?" He asks, and immediately has another idea come to mind, "... Do you make noise - when you come?"

Bruce looks down at him suspiciously. "Sometimes. Why?"

"Show me. I'm trying to picture you."

"Oh god Tony," But Bruce closes his eyes, lets himself relax. When he finally opens his mouth again it's to a soft, broken little moan that Tony has no trouble placing in context. He gives his balls a little squeeze, rolls them through his fingers and pretends it's Bruce's tongue.

It's not hard to echo back with his own little breathy exhalation. "So good," He assures Bruce, and watches as his partner has to lift a hand to his chest. Tony counts the seconds for him and times them with his strokes. "One, two..." He could have Jarvis do it, but that would take all the fun out of it.

"Eighty eight." Bruce sighs, and Tony takes that as permission. He doesn't halt the motion of his left hand, but he brings the other up to overlap with Bruce's so he can feel the steady thump of the doctor's heart. Bruce sucks in a surprised breath, but the rhythm doesn't falter.

In some ways, it's almost as intimate as if Tony had his hand on the other man's cock. In some ways it's even more so - and enough for now. Tony grins and adjusts his own rhythm to his partner's pulse. He's so close now, feeling his orgasm start to build.

On a spur of the moment decision, Tony curls his hand around Bruce's and pulls them both down to his own chest. When his hips buck up now, it's beyond his control, pushing his heaving chest up against Bruce's hand. Tony's own heart beats like it's trying to burst, but Bruce remains steady.

His fingers brush the hot metal of the arc reactor, and Tony's fully aware of the danger - Bruce isn't supposed to touch him, could hulk out and smash the glowing machine right through his chest - and that's what pushes him over the edge.

He cries out, eyes slamming shut with the assurance that his life is in Banner's hands, strong against his overheating skin. "One forty nine," He hears distantly, and when he opens his eyes Bruce's are closed tight. He's counting his breaths, and Tony knows it's time to change gears.

"What percentage is that?"

"For you," Bruce grins, but doesn't open his eyes, "Approximately... Seventy six percent."

"Awesome."

Tony leans over to kiss Bruce on the forehead before scooting off the bed. "I'll be in our workshop when you're ready to get back to the collider. And if you see Thor on your way down tell him he better be prepared for me to join him if he's going to jack off on my couch in the middle of the night."


	3. Steve

** Steve**

The hot water feels wonderful running down his skin, trickling over the taught lines of muscle that Steve still can't believe are his sometimes.

Of course, the shower also has the added bonus of drowning out the sounds of Clint having disturbingly kinky phone sex in the next room, but Steve is decidedly not thinking about that.

He's already wound up by proxy, hard and aching as much as he tried to tune it out, but he's determined to take his time. Steve's fingers trace over his pectorals, little droplets splashing everywhere as he does.

After seventy years in a glacier, the hot water is equivalent to heaven. He rubs it into his skin, savoring the feeling, letting his hands ghost lower and lower as he does.

There's a tingly sensation when he reaches his abdomen, a light fluttering that makes his cock twitch up into the spray with interest. But Steve bypasses his dick for now, palms sweeping across his hipbones and curling around behind him to grip his ass. He kneads the firm muscle, spreading his cheeks to get the feel of the water running between them and can't help but let out a soft sigh of relief before grabbing the soap.

Steve lathers up his hands and then spreads the foam out against his chest, rubbing circles up against the hard ridges of his abdomen. He stops for a moment to roll his nipples between his fingers, both springing up pink and perky when he's done. This body is marvelous and responsive, and Steve still can't get enough of it.

Then it's on to his neck and back down his shoulders, tracing the curves of his heavily muscles arms with trails of suds. His cock is heavy and dripping pre cum in shuddering anticipation, tension building as he pleasures the rest of his body.

He washes himself thoroughly, but lets his hands linger, caressing whatever feels good.

Finally though, Steve brings his hands back against his stomach, watching the soap flow off of him in the rivulets of steamy water and tracing them down until he's stroking his dick. His other hand, Steve allows to go further, bushing past his balls gently before finding a grip on the taught muscle of his thigh. He tests the resistance there with a gentle squeeze, following it up with an even gentler one just below the head of his cock.

A small wave of pleasure accompanies it when he gives his wrist a little twist, because yeah – right there. It's all purely physical, the sensations of heat and watery caresses all he needs to get himself off.

Steve continues to stroke himself underneath the spray, enjoying the feel of the water hitting his swollen cock and slipping down the underside to his balls. If he tilts the tip downwards though, the water plays at his slit for a moment before falling to the ceramic at his feet. He alternates then, angling himself to feel the water against his skin every way that he can.

After another moment, Steve soaps up his hands again. He leans back against the wet tiles, working the lather down over his cock and balls, sudsing up the fine hair there. The air is heavy when he breathes in, letting his eyes fall closed against the shower of droplets from face to thighs.

Another soft moan catches in Steve's throat; he pushes up into his hands for just a bit more needed pressure.

Keeping up a steady tempo, he sweeps one hand back over the curve of his hip and down behind him until the pads of his fingers are brushing at his hole. Steve circles the pucker with his pointer, can feel the flush of heat that accompanies. He experiments with his own reactions, pushes in the tiniest bit.

It's good, so good - when he wiggles the tip of his finger in time with a downstroke, his orgasm takes him completely by surprise. Steve cries out, splattering the shower curtain with ropes of cum.

He continues to stroke himself past completion, coming down warm and sated.

At least - until there's a thunderous knock on the door, Thor's voice booming out, "Clint wishes to inquire if thou art through seeking self pleasure; he desires to gain entrance to this sanctum."

Steve scrambles to pull the curtain in under the spray, flushed from more than just the hot water. "Uhh, yeah, just a minute!"


End file.
